


Pitter Patter

by Raven2547



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Boys Kissing, Dogs, First Kiss, M/M, Making Out, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing Clothes, Slice of Life, Unintended Drug Use, Wayne's Social Skills, discussion of sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-19 07:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15505095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven2547/pseuds/Raven2547
Summary: collection of one word or phrase prompts. all Wayne/Daryl unless stated in the chapter title.





	1. First Kiss

"Dr. Trisha says that sexualities is fluid and we shouldn't worry abouts labels, less of course they gives us comforts or whatsnots," Squirrely Dan said with the usual aplomb. He leaned down and grabbed a fresh Pupper out of the cooler.

Wayne squinted into the sun and took another drink of his rapidly warming beer, jerkily moving to dump it out over the grass as he gets to the bottom inch. 

"Well, not to be impolite, but I always thought sexuality was a thing you decided on definitively at some point in your life," he said sensibly. He grabbed another beer and twisted off the top, tossing one to Daryl when he waved for one.

"Now, sees, Dr. Trisha says that some peoples do and some peoples don'ts, but everyone's is different and it don't matter in the long run if you thinks you're gay or straight or whatevers. She says that everyone's wants companionship and that really resonates with me," Dan finished, nodding to himself like Dr. Trisha held all the answers in the world. 

"Huh... so's you think a guy like me," Darry said finally, "could wake up one day later in my life, and suddenly decide I could be a homosexual?" 

"Well, I s'pose that's abouts the roots of it, though it's not really PC to say it's a choice to be gay," Dan said, scratching at his beard, "Maybes it's more likes you's born the way you are but it could take a fella a while to realize, ya know. Maybes it's be more correct to say that loves knows no bounds."

Wayne took his pack of darts out of his shirt pocket and lit one up, inhaling deeply so the flame crawled almost halfway through the stick before letting it out of his lips. The blonde held the smoke in his lungs for a slow count to five before breathing out his nose, letting the smoke roll into the air lazily. 

"That sounds about right to me," Katy said from her lawn chair, closing her eyes as the sun crept out from behind the clouds again, "I think I speak for all of us when I say everyone's got something to offer between the sheets," she grinned to herself when rustling came from behind her, accompanying Wayne's stiff straightening of his shoulders.

"It's almost not worth talkin' about," He said, flicking his cigarette down onto the ground. He uncomfortably shifted in his chair again, placing his beer on the ground between himself and Squirrely Dan. Across from him, Darry also shifted and scrunched up his face in thought. The jumpsuit raised his hand to his hair and ran his fingers through the curly strands, pulling on a few tangles in between the digits. 

"I think Katy might have a bit of a point, there. Now, you know I'm always one to say when a lady is looking mighty fine--"

"Boy howdy."

"But, while I might keep it to myself, I do find that sometimes a male might also look quite nice from time to time," Darry finished, fanning his hands out around himself and leaning forward in his chair in a farce of a bow, his beer spilling a little on the ground.  
"You sees, that's what's I'm talking abouts. You all knows that's when I gets to lookin' at the ladies I am not shy about my preferences and whose looking real nice latelys, and while I don't have any interest in the men abouts town I can admits when one is lookin' more handsome," Dan nodded encouragingly at Daryl and shook his almost empty beer bottle in the air. Something swished unsettlingly inside it, but it went ignored. 

"Atta boy, Daniel," Katy said with a large smile, leaning around to grin at the two boys behind her.

"You're very supportive to your friends, Katy, and that's what I's appreciates about you"

"Oh is that what you appreciate about me?"

"Take about ten percent off there, Dan," Wayne huffed back into the conversation, pulling another drag off his dart. 

"Say, Wayne, you haven't put in your two cents there, Big Shoots," Darry said, "You ever noticed a guy in a non-platonic way before?" 

"I said it's almost not worth talkin' about," he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back, kicking his boot-clad feet out in front of him. His sister shook her head and smiled mischievously over at Daryl.

"Well that's not not worth talkin' about," Katy smirked and leaned down to grab a bag of sour candy from under her chair.

"I thinks this is a bonding moment fors us pals here, Wayne. You knows we wouldn't say nothings about you's liking anyones outside the norm."

"'Cept maybe Tanis," Katy said reprovingly from the sidelines, determinedly not turning around.

"Ten-four on Tanis," Daryl joined back in, "but Wayne, we all just shared some very personal details and I think you owe us a reciprocation."

"If somebody came up to me and said 'I've got three rattlesnakes in my pants and I'd like you to help me out' the only thing I'd owe them is the use of my phone to call an ambulance. You all volunteered your information and I won't be coerced to reveal what may or may not be outside of the standard sexual identities in this area of the country," Wayne stood up and straightened his shirt, finished off his Pupper, and marched back to the barn, followed closely by Gus. 

"Well, that went about as well as I thought it was going to," Katy intoned cheerfully, taking a drink of her own beer. 

"I thoughts it was goings pretty well, up til he stormed off you knows," Dan said thoughtfully, "but ya know usually Wayne wouldn't be too worried about just comin' out and sayin' that he prefers the ladies, so Darry I think you's got a good shot."

"You think? He seemed right perturbed before he got up and ran," Darry coughed up some spit and hocked it into the grass, toeing the ground with his boot as he stood up and straightened his jumpsuit. 

"Nah, that was his nervous walk. He bailed before he said something he thought would be embarrassing, so he's probably at least got a hard on for a guy once or twice otherwise he wouldn't be worried about it." 

Darry shrugged and pursed his lips in surprised thought, then shrugged again and leaned down to tie his boot. He straightened and waved to the other two as he marched off to the barn in pursuit of his best pal, hoofing it through the calf high grass round the back. 'Need to mow soon', he noted absently. 

Wayne was looking like he was looking for something to do, which made sense as they only opened the stand after they finished chorin' in the morning and it wasn't hardly time for evening chorin'. The tall man was hunched under a low beam from the ceiling and alternatively glancing up into the rafters and then back over at the door, catching Darry in one pass and raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Thought I'd help you out if you don't mind," Darry supplied helpfully. The other man gamely shrugged and Darry gave a little awkward nervous laugh on his way into the barn proper. Wayne never was a man of many words, but if you made him uncomfortable enough he just stopped talking all at once. Gail was a professional at putting Wayne in the quiet corner.

They ended up transporting the hay, barley, and straw from the back of the barn into the front stalls, closer to where they'd actually pick them up from when they needed them. Wayne himself pulled a drawer out of the worker's desk in the corner and removed a calendar sheet, giving it a quick once over before popping it back into the drawer and knocking it shut. Darry patiently gave the blond a few more minutes of piddling around to collect himself before stepping up to the plate, so to speak.

"Now, I know you're more repressed than those church girls and boys over at the Burnin' Bush, but even you have to admit that your two best buddies and your own little sister wouldn't be nasty to ya if you wanted to get something off your chest," he began in a placating, soft tone that still echoed a little in the empty barn. Gus sighed on the floorboards and Wayne knelt to pat him on the head and scratch his ears. 

"'m not repressed," Wayne furrowed his brow and pushed the senior dog onto his side, rubbing Gus's belly and making his leg shake.

"You kinda are, bud, but that's ok. I like you anyway," Daryl stepped over to the workbench and sat down heavily, bringing a leg up onto the bench bent at the knee so he could rest his elbow on it. 

"And I don't have anything on my chest," Wayne continued, standing up and coming over. He sat down in his abrupt way and his hands rested tensely on his knees, the elbows bent in that consciously stiff way he had about him all the time. The toe of Darry's boot pressed against his thigh. 

It didn't really seem like that important an encounter, but when every movement of Wayne's was so calculated and measured, no movement wasted or superfluous, everything efficient and to the point, him choosing to touch Darry during this conversation was pretty comforting. Knowing Wayne for so long had it's perks, but one of the biggest ones was knowing how to read the man himself. Right now, Wayne wasn't mad and was probably happy to see Daryl. He only touched when he wanted to, never by accident.

The two sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Gus lolled about on the floor and got himself all dusty, much to Wayne's visible exasperation. Darry placed his foot back on the ground so he was straddling the bench facing the other man. Wayne barely moved, ducking his chin down and to the side to look over at Daryl from underneath his eyelashes. Unwittingly, Darry remembered the other telling him about reading women and 'the big eyes'. He scooted closer and leaned forward tentatively, but Wayne didn't back up.

Daryl grinned in a satisfied, goofy way, showing both rows of teeth as a short hyuk-ing giggle escaped his mouth even as Wayne's lips twitched up at the corners before he looked forward again, staring at the open barn door with his nonplussed face.

"Aw, darlin'," Daryl said, placing his hand on the center of the bench between them, "She's bashful." Wayne ducked his head, squinting out into the dusty air and definitely not remotely in Daryl's direction even as the tips of his ears turned red.

"Pitter-patter, Darry," Wayne mumbled, rubbing one of his hands' knuckles across the seam of his jean pocket. 

The brunet grinned again and placed his hand from the bench on top of Wayne's on his pocket, locking his fingers around the calloused, firm appendage. He wrapped the other hand around Wayne's jaw, turning the blonde to face him and pressing their lips together.

Darry felt the tension ease off Wayne's thick shoulders, but the other man didn't really lean into the kiss either. It was a chaste press of lips, not usually what the farmhand took to the party but he felt it necessary to ease into this. He pressed another kiss gently to Wayne's lips, rewarded by the firm press back as Wayne leaned into it, pushing their heads together. Darry's hand holding onto Wayne's twisted on the lap and he felt Wayne interlocking their fingers, knuckles scraping against each other and rough palms sliding together. 

Air pressed out against Darry's cheek from Wayne's nose and the blond twisted his head away. Their foreheads pressed together firmly. Darry opened his eyes and got a close up view of Wayne's short eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. He pulled away, his hand sliding up through Wayne's short hair to cup the back of his head and keep it down as he pressed another kiss to the taller man's forehead. 

"Let's get at-er."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I should add to the fandom as I love it quite a lot but we need more content. Also feel as if I've read the first line somewhere but I couldn't find it, but it probably doesn't belong to me. The opening lines of the sexuality discussion are clunkly, imo. dialogue is not my strongsuit. I also comment a lot on how Wayne moves because I find it very interesting when I'm watching the show. It's funny but also really odd and I like to imagine why he would move like that. This is meant to be lighthearted and cute ;o
> 
> Cheers.


	2. Big Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl does not like cinnamon gum.

Daryl quickly finished raking the last of the straw into a pile, then reached into his pocket to take out the crumbled pack of Big Red. It was cinnamon flavored and he didn't care for it too much, but he spent his money on it and he'd see it through to the last. He scrunched his face up in distaste, waiting for the initial burn to subside, then shoved the wad into a corner of his mouth. He chucked the finally empty package into the trash barrel by the door.

Wayne, above in the loft, yelled out a warning before launching a bale of new straw down into the center aisle of the barn. Darry looked up from under the overhang and watched the other's long legs descend through the wooden bars of the loft ladder back down to the ground. He chewed absently on the spicy ball in his mouth, swallowing a mouthful of flavored spit. 

"The hell was that doing up there?" Daryl asked, kicking the still bale at his feet. They never brought bales up to the second floor because it was just a pain in the ass--not just to put them up there but then to bring them down again. 

"It's an old bale. I think it's left over from the time Katy had a real gentleman caller come by," Wayne said slowly, adding his foot to the bale. Looking at it closer, Darry noticed that it was quite brown with age and the twine on the sides was nearly gone.

"That's been nearly three years, now, Big Shoots," he hocked a load of the spicy spit into the floorboards, rubbing the toe of his boot over it to rub it in, then chewed a few times trying to work the last of the flavor out so he wouldn't have to chew it any more. His teeth clicked together obnoxiously and the tall blond across slowly swiveled his head around.

"You sound like a cow chewing its cud, pal," Wayne said slowly, tilting his neck down and brow up to peer at Daryl's eyes through his curls. He took a step closer and got a wiff of cinnamon, then stuck out his hand.

"Well, Little Shoots, let's have at 'er," He said generously, twitching his four fingers towards himself.

"What?" Daryl stopped chewing and looked up at Wayne with his eyebrows high on his forehead. He scratched his arm through the jumpsuit and gave another slow chew.

"The gum. I can smell the cinnamon and you'd best give me a piece--less you want me to come talk to ya," Darry guessed he was one of the privileged few in Letterkenny to know when Wayne was joking, but still.

"Cinnamon is /not/ your favorite! You like spearmint!" He said indignantly, placing his hands on his hips.

"Correction: I like spearmint when cinnamon is not available," Wayne said succinctly, stepping closer again threateningly. Daryl didn't move but he did duck his head and shake it a few times in denial. 

"Now wait just a minute! I asked you the other day if you's wanted a piece of my Big Red!"

"No, you never! You asked if I wanted a piece of your Big League Chew and I said I was neither a five year old nor a baseball player, so's you kept it!"

"No, I never! 'sides, this is the last piece--" Daryl found himself cut off by Wayne's large hand clamping down warmly on the bridge between his neck and shoulder, hooking him in. He thought the blond would put him in a headlock but Wayne's other hand came up under his chin to hold his head still as the taller man pressed their lips together. 

A little surprised but not displeased, Darry let out a small noise of agreement and pushed his own hands onto the narrow waist of his partner, bunching up his flannel shirt and hooking his fingers into the unoccupied belt loops. He felt Wayne moving their lips against each other and gamely opened his mouth, pushing his tongue into terra incognita and sweeping it across the roof of Wayne's mouth.

He felt Wayne's tongue enter his own mouth, brushing over his lips and sliding past Daryl's tongue, across his back teeth and along his cheek. There were a few sucking noises as two or three kisses separated themselves, and then Wayne pulled away with a self satisfied smirk on his face. The taller man turned away quickly and picked up the forgotten bale, marching to the stall Darry'd just finished cleaning and tossing it in the pile of old straw. 

Daryl stood in his spot, feet rooted to the ground as he tried to grasp what the hell just happened, then realized with a sinking feeling that his gum was somehow gone from his mouth. He wondered to himself if he'd swallowed it in surprise but then Wayne turned around and a small red bubble popped in front of his face. The stoic man gave him a long look and then marched passed him into the sun.

"Pitter patter, Darry, work to do."

"Damn it, Wayne," Daryl muttered, shoving his hand in his jumpsuit pocket. He didn't even like cinnamon gum and now he'd have to buy more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has turned into a collection of oneshots as I cruise through otp prompts on my tumblr. probably won't tackle AUs because not talented enough for that but one word or phrase prompts that catch my eye will probably get written. This one is more playful and short than usual.


	3. Sexy Texting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the otp prompt on tumblr blog otp--prompts.tumblr.com Person A returns home to be greeted by a guilty smile and a puppy from Person B, but I moved the prompt around a little bit to give myself wiggle room.

Sometimes it felt like all Darry did was wait for Wayne. That's not really fair to say as it's just not true, but still. Didn't matter how many times the other had to go away for a while, he always missed the older man. It's not even like they're attached at the hip like when they were kids. They led healthy lives and had a healthy relationship, but that didn't mean they couldn't miss each other. It just meant it was super soft of Daryl to already be missing the guy when he was only gone for three days. 

Wayne's friend Shawn up in the city--with the pre-Halloween party--called Wayne up Monday afternoon and asked him to come up and help him build a shed in his backyard to replace a collapsed one from the year before. Wouldn'a been so bad if it weren't snowing like the ninth circle of hell. The main roads were blocked by the time Wayne should'a been on his way home and only an idiot'd be caught trying to skirt passed on the back-roads all the way from Toronto. 

When he wasn't doing the winter chores alongside Squirrely Dan, Daryl found himself listening intently to the weather radio out in the barn or watching the news inside, much to the amusement of Katy.

Wayne called every morning, every afternoon, and every evening but it still wasn't the same. They texted throughout the days also but there's only so many times Darry can ask for a dirty selfie and get a hard no before he starts sending them himself. Not that the blond complained. A little reciprocation would'a been nice though, 'specially at night when he's tryin' not to think about how big the bed is without the Super Chief warming up the place. 

He just finished feeding the animals when a soft ping comes from his coat pocket. The sun's obscured by thick winter clouds but he's still being blinded by the bleached white landscape and misty quality that comes with northern winters. He shut the barn door to keep out the worst of the draft, letting Gus squeeze inside and stepping over Stormy and the puppies, and climbed up to the second floor loft. 

Although he and Wayne just cleared out all the old straw bales that were sitting up there, a few rickety old tackle boxes still sat under the curved ceiling and nestled under the narrow windows. He settled himself down on one that had a welcoming patch of sunlight stretched through it that showed all the disturbed dust he kicked up on his way to the top. Daryl kicked his feet out and unbuttoned the heavy coat, slipping it off and tossing it on the thick floorboards to reveal his dark coveralls underneath. His phone was buried in the center pocket behind a zipper guard, so he had to take off his gloves to reach it which was a bother. He used his teeth to tear them away and tossed them on his coat, finally pulling out his phone.

Darry clicked on the back of his phone and lit it up. His old flip phone met an unfortunate end that Summer down at the gravel pit thanks to Rat Ass giving him a little shove, which really was a blessing in disguise as Wayne not only pummeled the guy for Daryl's amusement and his own satisfaction but Daryl got a new phone out of the deal. His lock screen was unashamedly (but still hidden from Wayne to stop the debate over softness) a picture of his straight toothed smile leaning over a for-once sleeping Wayne in their bed. Katy thought it was simultaneously cute and daring of him to keep it where her brother could find it but one perk of dating Wayne was the absolute trust he had in his partners until they gave him a reason to distrust them. Case in point, Daryl's phone would never be touched by Wayne without his knowledge. Dan was just amazed that Wayne slept at all, much less relaxed as much as he was in the picture.

Anyway, he clicked open the phone and unlocked it, revealing a harmless photo of Gus and Stormy laying on a hay bale that summer. In the center of the screen the little messenger icon pulsed with a bright red (6) next to it. Darry raised his eyebrows and tried to recall hearing the ping aside from that last time, but he couldn't. 

He pressed the icon and opened the messages, scrolling up to the first one. It was Wayne and his conversation, laughably and proudly over a thousand messages long. The message was preceded by a message to Wayne from Daryl asking 'pretty please' for a dirty selfie 'just to help the ground squirrel settle down for the winter'. The first response read 'Good night, Darry'. No surprises. He coughed quickly into his elbow and moved the scroll down.

The second message was a failed to receive image. Daryl, very curious, hit the retry button and was immediately rewarded with an extremely tasteful picture of Wayne squinting into the light of a flash. His head was ducked down and face scrunched up like it was supremely uncomfortable. The bed covers came up to his navel but the rest of his bare chest was on view. One fist was twisted in the plaid comforter but Daryl could clearly see the entirety of Wayne's other, obscenely long arm stretched out to hold the camera. Wayne was rendered pale in the harsh lighting but Darry quickly saved the photo to his phone and SD card, planning a way to print the photo as soon as possible. It was rare enough to see that skin outside of their bedroom, but a photo showing so much? Unheard of.

Daryl's not ashamed to admit that he stared at that picture for too long. He was glad Squirrely Dan took off early that day or no doubt he'd be covering himself. The picture was so painfully Wayne from the stiff posture all the way to the squints and modesty it made his chest ache pathetically.

He hastily exited the picture and glanced at the text below, sent in the same minute. It was pretty short--all Wayne's texts were--and simply read, 'just cause I miss you', which was maximum ply if Darry said so himself. 

The fifth text followed a few minutes after the last, another text only. It was longer than usual and he had to scroll to finish reading it. 'You can have one more picture but I am using it as a bribe. I'm keeping it.' That was ominous and confusing. He started typing a message and then stopped when the scroll snapped to the bottom, revealing another failed media message. He quickly pressed retrieve and waited as this one took a second to load. 

This photo was absolutely dirty pool. Wayne stood in front of a bathroom mirror, the camera phone held up parallel to his face and the flash turned off. Daryl's eyes raked over his smooth chest all the way to his waistline, stopping where the counter top and Wayne's boxer brief elastic met. The blonde's abs were slightly shadowed and given more definition than normal, fading into the v of Wayne's hips. Darry swallowed in his suddenly tight throat and saved that one to his phone also. His eyes were drawn immediately to Wayne's other arm, though, and he gave an evil chuckle as he realized why Wayne was playing so nicely.

Nestled in the taller man's defined arms was a small Anatolian puppy, no bigger than the man's fist. It's little brown face looked into the camera with a similar squint as his new owner. Wayne's palm cradled the little thing's chest, his fingers wrapping around its front between its front legs as he pressed it against his chest. Daryl tried to stop his unmanly giggles but the pout on Wayne's face in the mirror was just defeated enough to be hilarious.

Daryl stood up from his perch on the tackle box and stretched, keeping the photo in front of him. He couldn't help the goofy smile on his face. If there was one thing in the world Wayne couldn't resist, it was a puppy. 

Just as he was fixing to zip up his coat, a loud honk pierced the still winter air outside. Stormy and Gus started barking below, hurrying to the shut barn door and scratching at the wood determinedly. Darry stood on the tackle box and looked out the window, glimpsing Wayne's black truck sliding into its spot in the laneway. He grabbed his gloves and started to pull them on, stumbling over to the ladder.

Once outside, Daryl made it just in time to see Wayne climbing out of the cab. His long legs stretched out and--well fuck if Darry didn't like to watch those legs too much. He averted his eyes lest he be caught staring like a teenager and stomped through the snow. Katy stood on the back porch and wrapped her arms around herself, only wearing her hockey-watching jacket for the short trip outside. Gus and Stormy both hopped eagerly around their master, not jumping on him but dancing in that excited way dogs do.

Wayne was knelt in the snow petting both his dogs and making those cooing baby noises he always did when Darry approached. Gus was slobbering on him, although Daryl noticed Wayne wasn't doing much to dissuade him, scratching the old boy in all his favorite spots as Stormy rolled in the snow in front of him to enjoy belly rubs. 

The blond stood up as Daryl approached, casting a glare at Katy's smug grin before leaning down to give him a kiss. Three quick pecks later they separated. 

"How're ya now?" Wayne said. His right arm slid around Daryl's shoulder and pulled him in; Daryl did the rest by wrapping both arms tightly around Wayne's waist.

"Good'n'you?"

"Oh, not s'bad," Wayne pulled away first, then leaned up on the railing of the porch to give Katy a quick hug over the top. She scraped her hand through the short hair on the top of his head and shivered noticeably. 

"Just got your messages," Daryl started, and Wayne's eyes snapped over to him quickly, "Where's it at then?" 

The tips of Wayne's uncovered ears were already red from the biting cold, but the back of his neck visibly warmed as he stomped through the snow around the truck to the passenger side. Katy's brow furrowed in confusion as he opened the door and pulled out a little bundle. He came around again and held it up for both of them to see and Daryl couldn't help the grin that he'd been trying to hide in mock-disapproval. 

The little thing was wrapped up snugly in a spare shirt of Wayne's and Katy let out a rather embarrassing squeal when she realized what her brother brought back. She came down the stairs like a shot and took the puppy from him, making kissing noises and doing big eyes at the little dog. 

"You can name her," Wayne said agreeably, watching Katy closely as she slowly went up the steps to the door, "But no people names and no food names!" Katy flipped him off and shut the screen door, baby talking to the puppy on the way through. 

Daryl laughed out loud, stepping closer to Wayne again. The wind was cutting through his coat and he belatedly remembered he didn't zip it up before coming outside. Wayne's dark eyes cast over to him and he pushed his head up for another kiss, which he got, but then he felt the other man's thick fingers pressing in on his coverall clad front. To be fair, Darry reasoned to himself, it was going on four days since he and Wayne'd touched, so he figured he was allowed a little softness. 

He sighed into the kiss and reached down to Wayne's hips, pulling him closer and sealing out the cold wind. His hands slipped up the blonde's strong back and he pressed insistently between Wayne's shoulder blades as his other hand slid down again to skim the top of his straight leg jeans. Daryl felt more than saw Wayne's shiver when his own cold fingers skimmed over the skin underneath the waistline of his pants.

"Darry," Wayne mumbled warningly, and Darry laughed into his pursed mouth while he dragged his hand out of Wayne's pants to sit safely on the outside but significantly lower than usual. Katy would be busy for a little while, he justified, and gave a quick squeeze of Wayne's ass before just resting his hand there. Wayne pressed a few more kisses to the brunette's lips and then sighed against his cheek, pulling away. 

"You'll catch your death of cold, Darry. Zip up your damn coat," Then he dragged him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hilarious to me that Wayne despises children and adores puppies and dogs.


	4. Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're out in the field the other day...

Late summer wasn't usually a time for lazing about. The harvest came in, the animals needed shuffling to greener pastures, and basic maintenance was a year-round chore. That being said, the group often had time to man the produce stand as well as enjoy a run around town every now and again. Wayne was in neither of these places at the moment, though. 

He walked along the fence-line, keeping a healthy distance away from the electric wire, and carefully inspected every wooden post. The metal eight in between each wooden one were obviously fine, if a little crooked from damp ground sinking in, but the organic posts needed more attention. Wayne carefully noted to himself the location of three posts that needed to be replaced before winter; it wasn't a lot when compared to the dozens of perfectly fine ones, but maintenance was maintenance until it was a headache. He thought to himself that he could have driven the truck along the paths on the outskirts of the hay field, but the walk wasn't hurting him and he enjoyed solitude. Gus ambled along over the hilly terrain behind him, straying to do his business or otherwise sniff around the property line before returning to Wayne's side.

The blond looked around with a hand cupped over his brow to shield it from the sun. His other hand rested stiffly on his waist. The sun was still high in the sky, barely even past noon, and there were few but fluffy clouds floating overhead. They didn't look filled with rain, so he kept walking into the corner post. 

Wayne laid his hand on the final post--at least of this section of the property--and looked over at the field on the other side. A truck passed by, red with a toolbox slung across the bed, and a wrinkled, calloused hand rose out of the window to wave at him as they drove on. Wayne raised his hand in response and moved his elbow around the post, leaning on it more heavily as he took a deep breath of the ripening hay field. 

Gus panted loudly next to him, coming to a stop and sitting down almost directly on top of Wayne's boot. His hind foot came up and noisily scratched behind his ears, and Wayne obligingly lowered his other hand to pat his companion on the head.

Glancing up at the sky again, Wayne made an executive decision as he stepped away from the packed, soft grass of the fence-line and into the waist high hay. He heard Gus following him loyally, parting the grass much more elegantly than his master's broad frame. When they came about thirty yards into the field the tall man bent his legs and carefully sat down, leaning back on his hands and squinting up at the blue sky above. He lowered himself slowly onto his back, bringing his arms crossed behind his head to stare up at the sky. Gus puttered about around him, sniffing and wandering in the immediate area looking for trouble. Wayne stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles.

This was the first time in years Wayne laid in the field. He used to do it all the time when Dyad and Mum were alive and there was less choring to be had by all the hands. He and Darry would come out, throw a ball or roughhouse, and then lay in the grass until the safety lights along the road came on. Squirrely Dan, Darry, and he would play hide and seek in the corn fields at night before and make Katy use the flickering flashlight on her turn. 

The grass from down here made everything look like a narrow tunnel. The world was limited to just the sky and the grass and Wayne. Everything was muted except for the distant sound of the road as random trucks and cars passed and the deep smell of being right on top of nature. His dog ambled back to him and laid down with a sigh, resting his big head on Wayne's thigh and getting a quick ruffle for his trouble. 

The clouds overhead weren't really shaped like anything, which was more disappointing than Wayne cared to admit. He supposed that maybe he'd grown up enough to not be able to see the shapes, but that was more depressing than theorizing about the weather. His mum used to sit on the porch while he did his homework and look up at the clouds while she pet or fed another round of puppies. Katy would be trailing after Dyad out in the barn, threatening to cut off her pretty hair if he didn't let her drive the combine 'please just once'. And Mum would make Wayne look up from his maths and tell her what he thought the clouds looked like and then argue with him about it in that matter-of-fact way that Wayne felt as if he'd only begun to master. She'd brush his hair away from his face and give a kiss to his forehead, then make him come help her with dinner. 

The power lines shuddered in the breeze, not that Wayne could see, but the grass moved to the west and a cloud passed in front of the sun, throwing him into momentary shade. A bunch of little black birds flew overhead, chirping, and then out of sight again. Wayne sighed and tilted his head back again into his palms, shutting his eyes against the re-emerging sunlight. 

He didn't fall asleep, but for all he knew he was there for ten minutes or two hours before he heard the familiar rumble of his approaching truck. A door shut, the sound piercing the not-quite silence of the hay field, and he heard the also familiar sound of Daryl's heavy footfalls and soft curses as he climbed between the fence rails. 

"Wayne?" Daryl's voice echoed around the flat field, raised to carry at least a few acres. Spending the afternoon looking for his wayward pal wasn't a hardship, but it was odd. Wayne should've been back a while ago after setting out on his seasonal walk of the property. 

The blond popped his head above the grass line and squinted over at Daryl, looking eerily like a meerkat or prairie dog. Gus sat up as well and bounded eagerly to Daryl's side, giving a deep bark before sitting down on top of his wagging tail. Darry gave him a quick pet with both hands on the dog's head.

"Where'se at then?" and looking around, the brunette quickly spotted the rounded top of Wayne's head sticking out of the brush. He gave a quick laugh and waved a few fingers at his friend, then waded through the grass towards him.

"Haven't done this in a while," Darry said, joining Wayne on the ground and crossing his legs. Wayne shrugged back and leaned back onto his crossed arms, resuming his original position and shutting his eyes again. Daryl hummed a little to himself and looked around the gently waving field of hay, stopping on the barn far away--Wayne's starting point. After a few minutes of vainly trying to weave strands of grass together Daryl joined Wayne on his back, their thighs pressing together. The sun was out again and pressing warmly on Darry's face, but he looked over at Wayne and saw the blond quickly look away again, shutting his eyes. He gave his signature clucking giggle and nudged Wayne with his elbow. 

The brunette leaned up on one elbow and turned onto his side, looking down at Wayne's closed eyelids and the short blond lashes skimming over the hollows of his eyes. Daryl peered carefully at the relaxed face. Normally Wayne wasn't relaxed /at all/, stiffly moving along and playing to his routine. He looked almost asleep right now.

Daryl carefully leaned down like he was trying to sneak up on his friend, getting closer and closer to his face. Wayne allowed him to touch him more than anyone besides Katy, but he'd probably not be too pleased at his proximity if he were to open his eyes right now. 

As if sensing that thought or the thickening atmosphere, Wayne's eyes opened to slits to prepare for the sun but the yellow ball was conveniently blocked out by Daryl's curls. He gave a sleepy smile, which on him just looked like a quirk of the lips, and leant up to place a quick kiss on Darry's startled mouth. He put his head back on his palms and shut his eyes, but the smug satisfaction at Daryl's startled squawk wasn't hidden. 

Crouched over the blonde's form, Darry was still at a loss for words. He sputtered a few times and then groaned, throwing himself onto his own hands on his back.

"I was going to do that!" He whined, turning to look at the grin spreading across Wayne's face. He hadn't opened his eyes but his shoulders trembled a little in barely contained laughter. 

"Get after it, then, Dar," Wayne intoned lowly, scratching at his neck with blunted fingernails. 

"I will!" The shorter man leaned back up on his elbow and curled forward, placing on hand across Wayne's body to frame his head as he hunched over his prone form. Wayne's eyes opened again and, while they were full of mischief that Darry was familiar with, there was also a bit of anticipation in them. So he leaned down and pressed his mouth to his best bud's. His lips pulled Wayne's lower one in separately, sucking a kiss there first before moving to the upper and then   
eagerly opening his mouth first, using his lips to lever the blonde's open. Wayne's hands unlaced from behind his head and came up to Daryl's hair, pushing his fingers through the wind-tangles strands and pulling their faces to a more agreeable angle. 

Darry used one hand to keep himself elevated but turned his body, pressing their sides together and one of his legs in between Wayne's as his hand rubbed down the taller man's side to bunch up his shirt at the waist. The thick fabric pulled up in his fist and he determinedly pushed his hand up the inside of the shirt, untucking the entire thing. His calloused hand pressed over the smooth skin of Wayne's flank and back down to his hip over and over again as the older man seemed to try and pull Daryl's hair out by the root.

Wayne pressed his hand to Darry's head and dragged the other down his back, but the jumpsuit was not conducive to giving Daryl a taste of his own medicine. He settled for wrapping the arm around the brunette's waist and pressing them together, Daryl's groin pressed into his hip and Wayne's own to Daryl's thigh. He tried to use his taller frame to roll them in the grass, but all he got was a hiccupping laugh against his cheek while the other used his legs to keep himself on top. 

Laying on top, Daryl wound his arm underneath Wayne's head and pressed their foreheads together. They shared puffs of hot air in between kisses. Daryl's hand gripped Wayne's firm side stubbornly even as he rolled a little to lay on his side next to Wayne. The blonde stared up at the unchanging sky, clouds floating past but no longer in front of the sun. Their chests heaved and Daryl thumped his head into the bulk of Wayne's shoulder, staring to the side into the green-yellow grass. Wayne shifted a little to the side, finding a more comfortable position that didn't have Darry laying on his arm so heavily. 

"Let's stay here for a little longer, eh?" Daryl said quietly into the plaid of Wayne's shirt.

Wayne let out a gust of breath, disturbing Darry's curls on his sweaty forehead, "Kay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love looking at the sky and I love clouds, so. Also that game with the corn field and hide and seek? It's very fun. You play at night and you don't usually get a flashlight and it's hysterical, especially with people who aren't from the country. For some reason it gives people the creeps.


	5. Ecstatic

It feels kind of floaty--kind of spacey. Nothing feels bad or like it could, at some point in the future, turn bad. Wayne slumped in the lawn chair and leaned his head back on the back rail, his neck rolling limply to look up at the clear night sky. He can hear the party still ticking away in the background and Dan and Darry conversing about shneef again, but nothing really seems to matter right now. He's more relaxed than he's ever been; his shoulders slumped and his breath comes easier, looser, a weight on his shoulders eased up in this night. 

He leaned down and placed his small stack of mini solo cups on the ground. It's three high, modest for him usually but tonight he felt a little extra... just extra. The grass, wet for the late night dew, felt absolutely amazing. He flattened his hand against it and then rubbed his wet hand on his denim-clad leg. Then he kept rubbing for a minute because that also felt absolutely amazing. 

"Hey, just a heads up," Katy said, squeezing around the back end of the chair circle they had going on around the fire pit, "Apparently the skids spiked the blue table with molly, so." She shrugged and brushed a hand over Wayne's head on her way to her chair. He blinked slowly and leaned into it, following her hand around the chair and for much longer than necessary. 

"Well, that's a hoof to the balls," Wayne said succinctly, then stretched out his legs and tapped his boots against the rocks lining the edge of the fire. 

"Why's that, Big Shoots?" Daryl leaned back in his chair, "You's the one who bet they'd do something like that in the first place. I owe you a beer, matter of fact."

"Oh bother," the blonde stretched his left leg out farther and reached into his pocket, pulling out the pack of darts and a lighter. He lit one up and inhaled deeply, burning through half the stick and releasing the cloud of smoke in a thin stream into the sparking crackles floating above the fire. He stood up, not suddenly like he normally would but rolling to his feet. It started at his boots and looked like a slow motion, vertical worm slithering out of the sloped chair. Dan and Daryl cast lingering looks at Wayne, Katy joining him almost immediately and grabbing his hand. 

Wayne pulled his hand out of her grasp and pushed it over her shoulders, dragging her smaller frame into his side with a firm hand on her opposite arm. His bicep pressed hotly against her neck and her hair tickled under his chin, but he surprised himself (and those around him) by rubbing his forehead into the sensation, shutting his eyes on her surprised and concerned face. 

"Wayne?" Katy said slowly, winding her arm around his waist. His other arm curled up and wrapped around her shoulders, pressing her side into his chest in a side hug. 

"Mhm?" He felt heavy, like a relaxed heavy... like he could sleep for a few days and still be tired, but he didn't want to go to sleep because he wasn't tired; like he loved his little sister and he just wanted her to know it--"Love you, kiddo." 

"I love you too, big brother, but I have a question. How many shots did you have from Stewart's table?" 

"Well, I went over there to see if there was anything stronger than Gus'n'Brew layin' around but I couldn't find anythin', so's I ask Stewart if he's got something to drink that'll give a fella something to party about and really I should'a known better than t'ask him for a recommendation cause I've known since grade nine that that kid's got a drug problem and not a sharin' problem if yaknowhatimean," His voice warbled a little and slurred over the words, he leaned heavily on her shorter frame. 

"Ok, but how many did you have?" Katy said, propping up his broader body by shuffling a little closer. She waved a hand at Dan and Darry, gesturing with her chin to Wayne's increasingly slanted body. 

"Anyways I ask him for a liquid sizzler, for a spark of life, and he holds out the tray of shots. Now you know I'm not one to piss away my shots so he says to me 'take one and leave the fun' and I says to that, Wayne's never done no one shot sally and so's I take three," He said finally, releasing her shoulder with one hand to hold up the appropriate fingers. 

"And I am coming to regret that choice," He said a little loudly, unwrapping his other arm from her shoulder and leaning away, "Because I think there was something in it." 

"You don't say?" He could /hear/ the sarcasm in Katy's voice. He stretched his arms up above his head, linking them and hearing his back pop a little. His face scrunched up and his shirt came a little untucked, but Wayne put his arms down and rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. 

"I /do/ say, and I also say that I'm gonna go and get somethin' else t'drink," And he stumbled away, quickly righting himself and walking steadfastly in the direction of the drinks. About halfway across the dirt lot of the party he ran smack into the makeshift dance floor, but managed to skirt around the outside edges. Tanis grabbed his belt loop and pulled him in for a quick one, which ya know wasn't too bad because she ran her hand around the back of his shirt and finished untucking it and then ran her fingernails over the skin on his lower back under the shirt and really what more could a guy want in a dance partner than one who'll give you a little something to think about. Goddamn but it felt like she had four hands, though, before there's a pause in that weirdly hypnotic degen trash Stewart's crowd likes to play. He twisted away, Tanis pouting at him. She dragged a finger down her face in a mockery of a tear--he laughed at her, the edges of his smile crinkling his eyes. 

The pout dropped from her face so fast, she straightened up and grabbed his arm. He's still smiling a little, the grin feeling a little dopey at that point but he's actually pretty happy. This is a good party, the music's good (in the back of his head he thinks it's quite odd that he thinks it's /good/ but still), and he's got a lot of his friends hanging out for the last hurrah of the season.

Tanis dragged him out of the dancing area and towards the cluster of drink tables. 

"The fuck's the matter with you?" she said angrily. She had pretty hair, always twisted up around her face in those curls. He reached out a hand and ran his fingers through the strands by her face, rubbing them between his fingers. The smile left his face but it's slack instead, not tense and stiffly maintained. He looked relaxed and out of it. She grabbed his hand and pulled it away, pushing it down to his side again.

"Stay here. Don't move. I'm going to get you some water and then I'll find your sister and that boyfriend."

"Not m'boyfriend," Wayne mumbled. He tilted his head back again and stared up at the stars, his mouth opened a little. He ran his hand over his head and grabbed a handful of his hair, not pulling but more of a grip to keep his arm up. 

He swore he didn't move. It's just one minute he was staring up at the stars and the next he's got a rip-roarin' Gail pressed against his limply hanging left arm. She grabs hold of his hand and that's really what does it. Nobody else has held his hand all night and it feels real nice the way she rubs her arm up and down his forearm and shoulders. But he leans on her for a minute, mumbling about it, not even a full minute really before she's leaving him too. This is not the most productive night he's ever had.

"Listen, country boy, the big part of our game is that you give me a good one back every time I swing for the fences and I wouldn't mind a trip down the skin slide with you. No, I think a game of hokey pokey between friends would be real welcome with me and you but--" He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed her to him like he'd done Katy, letting out a breathy sigh against the side of her head. She slapped a hand against his chest and pulled away, giving him some big eyes but not /the/ big eyes, yaknow. 

"Alright, shirt tucker, I'm high tailing it out of here; gonna tell that Stewart ass to tighten the security on that table of his," Wayne's company just keeps bailing on him. She beat it like she's cleaning a rug. 

"Ok, asshole," Tanis returned, pressing a chilled bottle of water into his hand. The cap was already off and she pressed on his hand to lift it to his face. Obediently, he drank it and the water was cold and felt really nice, like inordinately pleased with itself to be in his mouth at that moment. Fucking smug water, he thought to himself, but that made him laugh and he choked on it, lifting the bottle away from his face. He dragged his sleeve across his face and dried up the spill, giggling into his arm and then flashing the matching smile at Tanis's worried face one more time. 

"Sorry, wasn't s'posed to do that, I think," he said, slurring his words together again. She grabbed his arm without responding, then dragged him through the dance floor and straight to the fire pit. Dan's gone. His lawn chair is folded up and tossed in the bed of Wayne's truck, parked just out of reach of the circle of chairs. Darry's lifting the others into the bed and that's the best thing Wayne's seen all night. He pulled his arm away from Tanis--or he tried to, she pulled him back just in time for him to realize he almost walked right through the fire. 

She steered him around the edge of the rocks and into the arms of Katy, but at the point they start talking over his head he cranes his neck, lets it go limp again, and stares up at the sky. He could hear them talking but he just didn't care to listen. Before long Katy's hauling him closer to the truck and passing him off to Darry, pawing around in Wayne's pocket for the keys. 

Darry grabs him with one hand, pulling Wayne's arm around his shoulders, "Come on, Big Shoots, time to go home." He wraps the other one around Wayne's waist like Wayne can't walk, but his arms are strong and hot and feel really good wrapped around him like that. They make an awkward three legged jaunt around the truck and climb in, Darry in the middle and Wayne pressed between him and the window. 

Katy started the truck and they rumbled off down the road, but Wayne didn't pay too much attention. The contact between he and Darry is the most he's had all night and everywhere they touch feels like a brand; all along his thigh where he's pressed to Darry, all up their sides where he's pressed himself against Darry, then his own arm pulled around the brunette's shoulders, Daryl's hand around his back keeping him from falling anywhere. They squeezed together tightly, taking up most of the bench with how Wayne twisted to try and get more contact. He brought his leg up and pushed it behind Daryl's back. 

Katy squeaked out a laugh and shoved his boot away, so he curled it around Daryl's waist instead, "Jesus Christ, Wayne," but then she's kicking his other foot away from her own leg where it's stretched across the gearshift, wrapping around Daryl's legs and effectively trapping him. The blonde resembled more of an octopus at this point, almost climbing into Darry's lap.

Wayne touched his forehead to Daryl's temple, his breath skated across the stubble on the brunette's cheeks and chin, "Darry, I love you, pal."

"That's a Texas-sized 10-4, good buddy," Darry said loyally, trying to ignore the obvious 'love' pressing against his hip. Wayne pressed his lips to Daryl's temple, closer to his eye than not, and peppered them down the side of his face to the soundtrack of Katy's laughter and Daryl's half-hearted protests. It felt so good so just /show/ Daryl how much he loved him--not like he loved Katy or Gus or even Dan, just how he loved Darry. 

Wayne buried his head in between Daryl's neck and shoulder, breathing heavily into his shirt. He clenched his hands in the flannel and pulled Darry closer into him, pulled tighter with the leg on the bench. 

He felt Daryl's hand petting his hair, holding his shoulder. He didn't know what to do with himself; everything felt a little too much, a little too intense. It was good, but it was a lot at once. He twitched against Darry's side and rubbed against him again just because it felt so good, but a shudder wracked through him and he squeezed his eyes shut against the dome light. Katy turned off the truck and gratefully stepped out of the hot air inside. She crossed over to the other door and opened it, but then marched herself into the house. 

After some twisting and turning and pushing (on Daryl's part), Wayne stood leaning against the side of the truck while Daryl locked it up. The brunette approached again and reached out to Wayne, luckily catching him as the blonde lunged at the same time. He grabbed with limp arms and hung on, pushing his face against Darry's chin and kissing at the soft, bristly skin leading to his neck. 

They made their way up the stairs in stops and starts. Wayne pressing Daryl to the wall and Daryl wrestling him away enough to stagger up a few more steps. Darry gave him a great push once they were locked into his room and Wayne fell backwards onto his welcoming bed, his long legs dangling over the side and his toes just skimming the floor. He heard a thump and some rustling, then his boots slid off his feet. 

"I'mma leave your pants on, Super Chief, 'cause I don't reckon I'm strong enough to resist you when you're naked," He does, however, help Wayne out of his shirt, which has somehow become scratchy and stiflingly hot in the last few minutes. It's replaced with a white tank he usually wears under work shirts, but Daryl's hands are hot and heavy on his chest as they smooth it out down his stomach. 

Wayne grabbed for a handful of Daryl's shirt and pulled him on top of himself, arching up off the bed to roll them over. He sat atop Darry's hips, a little dizzy but not too bad, and tried to kiss him again. 

"No, no, Wayne," Darry says a little breathlessly, but he does manage to push them onto their sides and get Wayne wrestled in some semblance of sleep, his chin pressing into Daryl's chest and forehead on the juncture of Darry's arm and shoulder, staring up into Daryl's dark brown eyes. 

"We're goin' to bed, ok? And everything'll be ok in the mornin'," Daryl mutters into Wayne's hair, passing his hand up and down Wayne's back like that'll make up for no sex when he's this keyed up except, yeah it kind of does because everything feels good again and it's almost enough to fall asleep to.

\---

Wayne stumbles down the steps blearily, running a hand down his chest. He's in the same jeans from yesterday but an undershirt he's never worn alone up top. It's not tucked in, and his hair is all messed up. He's tired and everything is heavy and bright. The chatter in the kitchen stops when he clomps into the room, stopping at the bottom of the banister just to hold onto it.

"How ya feelin', Big Shoots?" Katy says conversationally. She's watching him with narrowed eyes and a knowing look. He makes his way over and grabs the remaining chair. 

"Fuckin' fucked up," he says simply, then covers his eyes with his hands and leans over the table with a groan. He doesn't have a hangover, he's just fuckin' tired, a little woozy. 

"Wells I'm surprised you's even made it back to the bonfires after you's runs off last night," Dan says with a grin, but Darry grabs Wayne's arm and pulls him up again and towards the stairs.

"I'm surprised he's up already," Daryl says, and that's when Wayne looks at the clock. It's well past chorin' time and gettin' on up to the evening almost. 

"The fuck you let me sleep all that time?" He demands. He's stopped stubbornly at the bottom of the stairs despite Daryl's insistent pulling. 

"You were fuckin' tanked on molly last night, Wayne, go back to bed and sleep off the drop," Katy says. She and Dan are pouring themselves shots. 

"You can be a man at night, you can be a man in the mornin'" He says back immediately, but allows himself to finally get dragged upstairs and back into his room. The bedcovers are rumpled but the blackout curtains are doing their job well, barely any light in here. Daryl shuts the door and gets out of his jumpsuit, obviously having already showered by the curled ends of his hair. He pushes on Wayne's pants until the blonde obediently undoes them, pushing down the stiff denim and crawling back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots and lots of tense issues in this chapter but I couldn't find a way to make one tense sound right. drugged aesthetic = no consistent tenses i guess. apologies for that if it makes reading difficult.


	6. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALLYINTHERAIN suggested on tumblr: We all know what Wayne and Katy do for Darryl's birthday. What does he do for Wayne's?

It's no joke that Wayne and Katy's parents didn't celebrate birthdays. The kids' passed every year with the customary pancakes Wayne still prefers, accompanied by one candle. In Katy's case, she got waffles and chocolate milk instead of orange juice. As an adult, she preferred to go out to breakfast to the little diner in town. Wayne still let the day pass by unremarked.

Daryl's birthday was another matter. The other two were raised stoic and hard, but Darry had the dubious honor of the super soft birthdays. His mum probably knew about his best friends' birthdays--it's the only explanation he can figure as to why she'd make her growing boy suffer through the torment of high school with all the ammo any kid could ever ask for present at his birthday parties. When she died, he thought that would be the end of it. But, no. Katy and Wayne were incredibly reluctant to let the day pass by without ceremony, going so far as to restage the super soft parties themselves. A few years ago, Darry argued that by hosting the parties, they were soft themselves but that got him wrestled to the ground by Katy while Wayne did a slow clap in the background and taunted him about exactly how hard he was.

Which was not polite.

This year, though, Daryl had a plan. Wayne wouldn't see it coming, he was sure. What Wayne expected would be full-throttle retaliation for years of soft treatment; balloons, candy apples, a big fluffy cake. He would be sorely mistaken.

He carefully avoided the house for breakfast, missed Wayne's birthday pancakes and the candle that encompassed all the blonde's feelings about the subject. Darry knew Wayne didn't even blow it out, just snuffed it with his fingers like usual. While Daryl hated the super soft party, he rather enjoyed the fuss his friends made surrounding his birthday so he never did quite understand Wayne's reluctance to celebrate even after his parents passed away. Last year the matchmaking went so terribly that Wayne rarely went on dates anymore after Tanis. Until Darry.

It was with plans firmly in mind that Darry marched into the kitchen in the fall afternoon. Wayne was still outside, probably babying his dogs again, but Katy was dutifully making them dinner in her overalls. Keeping his distance lest she get more rough housing ideas, Daryl leaned on the kitchen counter that divided it from the dining area. He ducked his head, his sweaty curls falling into his face, and mumbled her name a few times until she looked up.

"What is it, Little Shoots?" she said sarcastically. She was cutting up a salad, the crunch of lettuce the only sound in the room.

"Spit it out, sally, work to be done," She flicked an olive at him and then moved her own hair out of her eyes. Just as well, Daryl could hear Wayne stomping the excess mud off his boots on the porch and scraping them through the wire boot brush fashioned to the steps. 

"I need you to go somewhere else tonight," He said in a rush, hunching further over the counter. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow but, apparently hearing her brother outside as well, nodded her head and smirked.

"I'll go see the McMurrays," She promised solemnly. Daryl put his hands together and bobbed his head quickly, muttering a thank-you. He turned back to the table and took his seat by the window just as Wayne came inside. The blond sat on the bench in the mudroom, one leg thrown over the other and untying his work boots. The afternoon sun was peeking through the curtains and spilling into the entrance way. Wayne's head looked backlit by the sun, Daryl had to squint to look at him.

Finally the long legs stretched out and Wayne stood in his abrupt way, coming into the kitchen and taking his seat. Katy placed the salad and meal on the table and joined them with a bottle of maple-syrup whiskey and a few shot glasses. 

"Katy, how're ya now?"

"Good, n'you?"

"Oh, not s'bad," They tapped their glasses on the table and drank, then began to eat. Katy asked after Squirrely Dan and, after hearing of his latest sweetie taking him on a date, started a discussion on dating etiquette that lasted well after dinner was over. Wayne and Darry quickly did the dishes and general cleaning up, then took turns showering. By the time they all came back down, Katy was pulling on a different outfit and slipping on her shoes.

"Where're you off to then, kiddo?" Wayne said. The late summer sun was lingering on the horizon but not for long and it wasn't often she went to town or the bar this late without the boys in tow. 

Katy shrugged and grabbed a bag off the counter, presumably stuffed with her overnight gear, "I'm gonna visit a friend of mine over in town tonight. Don't wait up," then she winked lecherously and started out the door. Wayne stared after her for a minute and called out a goodnight, then locked the door when the truck started up.

The trick with being soft with Wayne was making him think that /you/ are the one that wanted softness (technically true). Plus, with Daryl having spent all day cultivating the idea that he forgot the blonde's birthday, Wayne was much less paranoid than he usually was today. They dressed in their night clothes after Katy left, then reconvened in the living room. Darry flopped onto the couch and watched as Wayne took his place on the middle cushion. It was a few minutes work to get comfortable, stretching his arms out on the couch. Neither of them were small, so their arms touched along the back of the couch, their opposite knees knocking from their lounged positions. Gus tried to hop onto the couch but Wayne stayed him with a gentle pat on the head, pushing him to Katy's armchair instead. Too soft with those dogs, Darry shook his head.

The next part was tricky, because both Wayne and Katy operated under the same understanding of the silent treatment. Daryl rubbed a hand slowly over his face and eyes like he was tired, then through his hair like he was stressed, and laid it on his lap with a deliberately soft sigh through his nose. He saw the blonde's head twitch towards him out the corner of his eye. 

Sure enough, with no further egging on from Daryl, Wayne was soon moving over the couch to press their legs together and pressing his side into Darry's. He put the television on some movie marathon channel and leaned into the brunette's side. A few minutes later Daryl managed to get his leg up on the couch and behind Wayne so the blond settled in between, stretching his own longer legs out along the couch. Wayne pressed his head stiffly underneath Darry's chin, who happily laid there and wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders. Eventually they were relaxed enough that the low lighting from the table behind them combined with the soft noises of the TV started lulling them into a doze. 

Darry pressed sleepy kisses against the top of Wayne's head, along his hairline, across the bridge of his nose. His heavy hands rubbed up and down the blonde's flannel clad back, one coming up to grip his chin lightly and tilt it up for deeper kisses. He felt Wayne's hands; one gripping his shirt in a loose hold and the other passing down the outside of his thigh over his sleep pants and holding onto his knee. The one on his shirt was flexing every few minutes, a few fingers crawling underneath the fabric to rub calloused skin against the sensitive part of his stomach.

Wayne hummed into their kiss, pressing his torso firmly into Darry's to get a better angle. His breath fanned out across the other's cheek through his nose and the bristles of Daryl's beard scratched at his jaw. 

For Darry, this was going even better than he hoped. He broke their kiss to take a breath and scooted deeper into the corner cushion, pulling Wayne closer by the back of his shirt. He ran his hand down the blonde's back and over his ass down to the back of his thigh, pulling firmly until Wayne got the idea and crawled more firmly on top. Daryl rested his head on the arm rest while Wayne readjusted them along the couch so Darry could put his legs up as well. He moved his arms to help, dragging the taller man up until he sat astride Daryl's legs. Wayne's hands rested on either side of his head, his face was so close that his pants moved Darry's curls away from his face with every heartbeat. He could feel their shared arousals pressed together, wrapped his arms around Wayne's waist to press harder.

The blond rested his forehead against Daryl underneath him, brushing their lips together again in wet but shallow kisses as the brunette rocked them against each other. 

"Mmm," Darry sighed quietly into the kiss, moving his hips more firmly into the motion. Wayne's stuttered in response, his breath hitching noticeably before he reciprocated, holding Daryl's face firmly in his rough hands and pressing their mouths more insistently together.

"Happy birthday," Daryl grinned into the kiss, his mumble barely heard over the rustling noise of their clothing. Wayne stilled above him and Darry opened his eyes a smidge to look up at him. The blush dusting across his stoic face was enough to get a mischievous chuckle out of him, but Wayne stood up abruptly, his pleasant weight disappearing. Before his partner's face could drop at all, he offered his hand to him and pulled him to his feet.

"Upstairs," he said gruffly, the gravel in his throat a sure indication that this was a successful birthday surprise.


	7. Waking

The jerking feeling when you wake up from a nightmare was probably the worst part, Wayne reckoned. 

It's disorienting, waking up after suffering through a rotten dream. He didn't know where he was for a moment, casting his hand out on the empty sheet underneath the comforter. The part he touched was cool, hadn't been slept on recently. His eyes were already open, but by now he was adjusting to the dim lighting from outside. The bed wasn't empty, he was just shoved onto Daryl's side of the bed. The blond could feel his partner pressed securely along his back. Wayne's head was laid not on the pillow but on Darry's stretched out arm. The man himself was actually on his back and snoring into the ceiling while Wayne reduced their bed area by crowding into his side of the bed. 

The memory of the dream was already fading, the horrifying--or rather, frightening--images and feelings drifting away in the way late-night terrors often do. He rolled over, lifted his head off Daryl's arm, and settled up on his elbow to shake off the last vestiges of the nightmare. 

Resigned to avoiding sleep for a few moments, Wayne busied himself with observing Daryl's sleeping face. He only snored every few breaths, but they shook his entire frame. It used to wake Wayne up when they first started -literally- sleeping together, but by now he's so used to the off-beat snoring that to be without them would probably result in another sleepless night. Before Darry, Wayne was lucky to get five hours every night in the first place just for being a shitty sleeper in general, but together they both found they slept through until their alarm woke them in the morning. 

Darry's curls were twisted half over his head and half compressed on the pillow. They were more closely related to tentacles at this moment than hair, but that was partly Wayne's fault for running his hands through it earlier, tangling his fingers in the dark strands and pulling. Never did think he'd be a hair-puller... brave new world. 

Daryl's face was slack--well, slacker than usual. He was always more relaxed than Wayne at any given moment, but asleep he was even more so. His stubble was thicker. Darry couldn't grow a beard, despite his protests to the contrary, but he definitely got scraggly after a few days of neglect. Wayne shaved every morning but he'd grown used to the other's bristly appearance and kisses. He leaned down and pressed an open mouthed kiss to the hinge of Daryl's jaw under his ear; the skin was soft and warm. He laid a few more gently placed kisses along the edge of the brunette's square jaw. Wayne didn't want to wake him up, but when the opportunity presented itself a little softness where nobody could see wouldn't hurt anyone. He leaned back and looked up at Daryl's brown lashes fanned across the tight skin under his eyes. It was really distracting during the daytime. His lips were parted to allow those occasional snore to escape unhindered, but they pursed every few minutes and then he'd lick them. 

When they climbed in bed at the beginning of the night, Darry was wearing a white undershirt--which was now on the floor. Although Wayne stole all the blankets in the night and wrapped them around his legs and shoulders, Daryl's chest was exposed and he didn't seem bothered by it. Wayne pushed his hand over his pale stomach. There was a thin splash of hair, not a thick trail like Jonesy but a light spray of fine little hairs that matched the larger patch on his upper chest. 

If Darry were awake, well Wayne would have scratched his nails over the skin and pushed his hand under the blankets but. Resting his hand on Daryl's flank, he curled a little more securely around the brunette and pressed his face into his neck to take a shallow breath of Daryl's sweat and shower gel, abandoning the last traces of the nightmare. 

Just as well, he was getting tired again. The dim digital clock on the nightstand read some time before dawn and Wayne planned to enjoy those hours asleep. He ran his hand up Daryl's flank a few times, yawned into the other's shoulder, and rolled back around to his original position. They usually slept like this, Daryl on his back and Wayne using his arm as a pillow because it allowed the contact they wanted while preserving their sleeping patterns. 

Wayne adjusted the blankets to be more fairly distributed and pushed himself deeper into the covers. Daryl's hand stretched out in front of him and twitched a few times, but Wayne's slowly blurring vision and rapidly drooping lids distorted the picture. 

The hand twisted into the covers and strayed up to Wayne's shoulder, pulling him back against Daryl's side just as the other obviously turned himself to become an octopus. His other arm wrapped around Wayne's narrow waist and he shoved his face into the patch of skin below Wayne's ear.

"What're you doin' up, darlin'?" Daryl's voice slurred directly into his ear. His breath skated over the shell and went inside in a very curious sensation that made Wayne shiver. He patted Darry's hand on his stomach, resting his head in the other's elbow where it was twisted around him.

"Mind your beeswax, Daryl," His voice wasn't as stern now as it was in the day, filled with sleep and only a little of his characteristic stubbornness. 

"S'my b'iness if'n you're gropin' me and I'm not awake t'enjoy it," Daryl's hand scratched lightly on his stomach like Wayne'd wanted to do to him earlier. The blond shimmied his hips away from the tingling scrape and back into Daryl's hips. 

"Wasn't groping, just touching. Go back t'sleep," Wayne said gruffly and grabbed the wandering hand pushing down his front just before it breached his beltline. 

"Spoilsport," Darry breathed into his ear again but shifted obligingly, got comfortable, and pushed his mouth against the back of Wayne's neck. He laid a few dry open mouthed kisses from the back of Wayne's ear to his neck and shoulder junction.

"You better settle down back there or I'm gonna come talk to ya," the blond said. He sounded a little more awake and his legs kicked restlessly under the covers.

"I'm all ears, Super Chief," Daryl said smugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little shorter than usual, but it's a scene i kept imagining.


	8. Rink Side

One thing Wayne always appreciated about the Letterkenny stadium was that it brought the community together. The kids, no matter that he didn't much like them, all got together and played hockey or ice skated; the parents went to watch the kids and develop the friendly rivalry between the towns; and everyone showed up to support the Shamrocks and Shamrockettes. 

While he didn't care for raves or journeys up to the city for parties, it could never be said that Wayne didn't hop around town doing things all the time. He was far from a shut in. He made it a point to be available for community gatherings like block parties, barbeques, and the annual jamboree not to mention the ceaseless ebb and flow of favors, could-ya-help-me's, and other whatsits that just go on in a small town. Just this last week he and Darry were called out to help three people up in town and over on other farms, not to mention the various people who just showed up to chat during the day or pulled up with a flatbed and a sled on the back and a mouth full of questions--thank you, Ted.

What Wayne definitely didn't care for was the complete disregard for safety in the hockey rink itself. It never used to bother him up until it did. In a lot of rinks there was a nice glass or Plexiglas barrier between the ice and the fans, but Letterkenny's rink, while well loved, funded, and maintained, did not. So's it's while Wayne's putting down his second Pupper of the evening, leaning back to tuck it into the recycler behind him, that there comes a shout down from below and a scream from the crowd that is dulled in comparison to Daryl's.

When he turned back around, his pal's on the floor and the puck's got a nasty bit of blood and hair stuck to it as it rockets across the floor a couple meters. 

Now, it's not the most unpleasant situation he's ever been in. His folks dyin' is the first that comes to mind, followed closely by learnin' Angie was steppin' out on him, but number three has just been beat out by Darry getting walloped by the puck fucks. 

To his credit, Wayne only hesitates a second (the shock, see) before he's on the floor and slapping Daryl's face. The brunette's awake but he looks fuckin' awful and there's quite an uproar all around them. If Wayne were paying attention, he would have noticed that the EMTs from rink-side were gathered up around him. He's shooed away and grabbed by Katy, watching as they count a quick 1-2-3 and heave Daryl onto their rolling stretcher to the exit. It's just their luck that Wayne and Daryl were camped next to the wall by the nearest exit, so it's a quick escape from the murmuring crowd. Katy dragged him out to the car and he pushed himself in front to take the driver's seat even though she tried to convince him to let her drive. She got in the passenger's after a few minutes of arguing though, probably recognized the stubborn tilt of the blonde's jaw and the tick up by his forehead. 

They didn't beat the ambulance because Wayne had self control for days, a point of pride most days and a personal crutch on others. He went the speed limit the entire way to the hospital and parked in the visitors' lot instead of the emergency, then walked Katy into the front office and checked after Darry calmly. As his medical contacts Wayne and Katy were allowed to go back into the ER to see him.

He didn't think they'd been that far behind the ambulance, but by the time Wayne found Daryl in the last cubicle the brunette was already stitched and being bandaged up. His head had a nasty cut a few inches above his ear that bled like a stuck pig but he didn't look any worse for wear. 

Darry gave him a dopey grin after sighting him, the doctor quickly leaving to grab release papers. Wayne took Daryl's equally calloused one in his and stood next to him quietly as Katy asked questions left and right. If Wayne stood a bit closer than normal then nobody said a word about it, even when he almost knocked the instrument table over shuffling against Daryl's side. 

Katy checked her phone consistently for the next few minutes, eventually excusing herself out to the lobby. The boys stood in silence for a few more, Darry swinging his legs back and forth over the mottled gray tiled floor. Finally it seemed like the brunette got sick of waiting; he sighed an exaggerated sigh and shook his hand free of Wayne's increasingly tight grip, throwing it around the blonde's waist and pulling him closer. Wayne let out a sigh of his own, ruffling Daryl's fringe not trapped by the gaudy bandage on his head, and wrapped both of his longer arms around Darry's neck and shoulders, pushing one of his hands through the hairs at the nape of his partner's neck and pressing the other man into his chest. Daryl turned his face to look at the curtain separating them from the rest of the ER and allowed the blonde to clutch--at least as much as Wayne would ever clutch--him to himself. He stuck two of the fingers of his free hand in Wayne's empty belt loop, letting the arm sag as he hung on.

"Doc says I don't have a concussion," Darry started, the words slightly muffled in the flannel of Wayne's shoulder. 

"I should say," Wayne replied, "I've given you worse knocks to the head and you haven't gone down like that."

"Element of surprise, round two I coulda had him."

The blonde breathed through the other's hair for a few moments until the drag of boots on tile pulled them apart just before the doctor squeezed through the opening. He handed Daryl a small stack of papers and Wayne used that minute to excuse himself and get a dart in before they left.

In the hall, away from the one-way doors and the bright fluorescent lights, Katy stood near the exit doors with the two sweaty nutsacks. Riley and Jonesy stood uncomfortably, hunched together with sad pouty faces on. In spite of himself, Wayne felt his face scowl even more as he walked over and both of them blanched and hid behind Katy. She shooed them further down the hall and met Wayne halfway.

"Hold it right there, Big Shoots," she placed a hand on his chest. Wayne stopped obediently and glared at the two for a few seconds before switching to his sister. His face softened and he looked down, crossing his arms.

"Now, Katy, I know it was an accident and it wasn't even Tweedle Dick and Tweedle Dude who did it, but if they come anywhere near me right now I cannot guarantee I won't put my fist between their teeth," he said lowly, hunching over to speak into her ear.   
Katy nodded, "Over and out-- Let's go boys, Daryl's fine and I need a ride home!" the two looked vaguely relieved. They shouldered their bags and each offered her an arm on the way out the door. They grimaced and gave Wayne shy waves as it shut in their faces.

Wayne took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. He sat in one of the chairs by the wall and pushed his pack of darts deeper into his pocket, content to wait. A few moments later Daryl and his doctor stepped out from behind the one way doors. Darry stepped over to Wayne quickly; the blond stood up and took his hand again, nodding to the doctor a few times as he explained how to clean the cut and watch for problem behaviors. He shook the other man's hand before bidding him a good night, then led Daryl out to the truck.

Wayne donated a dart to Daryl and took one himself, but he burned through it and started another before the brunette had got halfway through his. Darry wrapped his arm around Wayne waist, took his cigarette out of his mouth to flick it, and pressed a dry kiss against the point of his jaw where it met his ear. Wayne turned his face away and breathed the smoke out through his nose. He ran his hand up Daryl's back to his shoulder and pulled him closer. It would have been a nice moment if Darry hadn't started giggling.

"The fuck're you so excited about?" Wayne pulled away and stomped on his cigarette, then unlocked the truck and started climbing inside. 

Daryl said in a sing-song voice, "You were worried 'bout me!" 

Wayne scoffed and slammed the door shut, locking the doors just as Darry tried to open his up. He started to pull away slow enough that the brunette could keep up with the window. Daryl's laughing face plead for him to stop as he banged on the windows, yelling about Wayne's manhood and hockey and trucks--he was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the opposite side of this coin is Wayne being hurt, but every time i tried to write it he got in the truck and drove himself to the clinic lol so there wasn't any hurt/comfort opportunities.


	9. That's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [RatFlavored](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatFlavored/pseuds/RatFlavored) who prompted clothes sharing and also provided me with wonderful conversation about the boys™

Wayne lounged in the bed on his stomach. He was stretched across Daryl's double bed with his head at the baseboard, balancing his head on a small mound of pillows while he read his battered copy of The Road. Darry had the damn air conditioning on in the middle of fall, so Wayne was forced to wear more clothes to bed than he otherwise would have. 

He and Daryl were spending a very rare night at the brunette's house as Katy bribed them for a night alone. She had a few callers, not necessarily gentlemen, coming by and wanted the house to herself, which was no hard loss for the boys as they had another place to go even if they didn't frequent Daryl's abode very often. Regardless, Daryl's house, though welcoming and as familiar to Wayne as his own, was kept at Darry's preferred temperature of just-above-freezing. This meant that the blond was forced to wear an under-shirt to bed--not usually a problem, exceptin' that Katy only requested that they leave before he grabbed clothes, so the only option was, well.

He could hear Daryl thumping around in the shower through the wall, a few whistles and obnoxious strands of song seeping through. He turned another page and tried to ignore the thick underlines and circles lining the paper. Glancing up, he noted the familiar peach colored walls, the dark wood shelving holding Daryl's books, and the two medium sized windows covered in storm glass. He helped install those when they were still in high school. 

Wayne's book fell limp in his hands as he rested his chin on the pillows. He casted his eyes around the room again and spied the slightly ajar door hiding the open closet, the trail of clothes leading the half-full hamper. He wished, again, that he'd thought to bring his own clothes as Daryl's blue shirt clung to his own slightly damp skin. Darry didn't wear flannel often. The brunette preferred cotton underneath his jumpsuits and just bought the variety pack in bulk anytime he went to the store. The older the shirt, the more likely it was a night shirt. So Wayne, for the fifth time since laying down, reached back and pulled the shirt down to cover his back again. He and Daryl were of similar build, but Wayne's shoulders were a little broader and pulled on the fabric in a different way. 

He crossed his legs at the ankle and used one foot to scratch his other leg, pulling the cloth of his (also borrowed) night pants. Damn Katy. The blonde's legs were much longer compared to Daryl even though they were almost the same height, which meant that even though he slung the pants low on his hips they still didn't cover all the skin. Compared with the ill-fitting shirt, he was constantly tugging on the materials to prevent frostbite in Darry's frigid bedroom. 

Wayne sighed softly to himself and tried to resume reading, leaving his chin on the pillow and roving his eyes over the blurring letters. His eyes shut for longer and longer increments of time and his wrist slowly lost tension. A muffled thud woke him up when his book dropped onto the thick carpet, his head snapped up and searched for the noise. His book lay flat on the ground, the spine mercifully straight as it shut when it landed instead of fanning out. He scrubbed a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes, curling the other arm deeper underneath the pillow.

It was at this moment that Wayne realized the dull roar of the shower was gone, not because he was especially observant but because Daryl's knee sank into the bedspread and tilted his perch precariously. Darry pushed his hand over Wayne's shoulder and down his back as he leaned down to press a close-mouthed kiss to the blonde's ear. 

Wayne turned his head and pressed their lips together, sleepily let Daryl take the lead and gamely rolled over when the brunette pushed his shoulders up. He raked his hands over Daryl's bare back--how the man could stand to walk around in this temperature, he didn't know--and let the other settle between his legs. He threw the pillows back to the headboard so his neck wasn't at the painful tilt and opened his mouth for a wetter kiss. Daryl seemed a little preoccupied, running his hands up Wayne's long legs and across his chest, but he never lifted the shirt or pushed at the pants. 

Daryl finally pulled away and allowed Wayne to rest his head back on the mattress, leaning over him. The brunette roved his eyes over his partner and hoisted the blonde's legs a little higher on his hips, then scraped his fingernails over the exposed skin of Wayne's stomach where the shirt rode up again. 

"Your clothes are riding a little high there, Super chief," he said lowly. Wayne wove the fingers of one hand into Daryl's wet curls and the other over Darry's face, swiping his thumb underneath his partner's eye. Darry grabbed the hand by the wrist and turned his face, pressing a kiss into the rough skin of Wayne's palm. The blonde's breath hitched. 

"You lose a lot of heat in the neck," Wayne said dully. The blue shirt was actually unbuttoned at the neck and fell loosely to show his lower neck and a bit of collarbone. Daryl's eyes burned across the exposed skin happily while he mouthed at the sensitive skin of Wayne's wrist. 

The blond huffed a gust of air and obediently tilted his head when Darry leaned down for another kiss. He hummed into the other's mouth and opened up for Daryl's prying lips and invading tongue. It skimmed around his front teeth and rubbed against Wayne's deliberately. 

When they parted again, Daryl's eyes and hands roamed over Wayne once again, "What's got you all riled up tonight?" Wayne said. He wasn't complaining but it was unexpected. 

"Where'd you get these clothes?" Daryl followed up. Wayne tilted his head back and allowed Darry to push his head into his neck, his hot breath and wet mouth distracting the blond for a minute. 

"Your dresser," he said through lax lips. Daryl's hands crept up the loose shirt, one sneaking up the back and pressing his cold fingers into Wayne's warm skin. He arched up into Daryl's chest and grabbed his shoulders with both hands, gasping into his ear. 

"Thought so," Daryl's breath ghosted over the shell of his ear as he trailed his lips up Wayne's neck, "These're mine. You're wearin' my clothes, darlin'," he said with a little laugh. Wayne grumbled slightly into his ear and rolled his hips against Daryl's. 

"You've had too much sugar cereal, Darry," he said breathlessly. He grabbed Darry with the hand in his hair and pulled him back to his face for another kiss as Daryl's fingers started to slip into the worn elastic of Wayne's waistband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short but cute. Hope you enjoy!


End file.
